newhaven.mindrealms.com

North West of Bay side, Brunswick village is the hip and up and coming neighborhood with small restaurants, coffee shops and corner stores. The old rail road once went through Brunswick but was decommissioned in the late 40s, now the Caboose and a few of the older passenger cars serve as a quint restaurant and hang out, called "The Tug"

Trust, it was beyond us. We trusted the dagger that would eventually be wielded either by someone who wanted to move up, or to the front because you where not smart and powerful enough to stab the person above you and take their place. It was almost impossible after living with the vipers to trust blindly, especially with something like this.

Christopher has left, and part of me wants to believe him. But the part of me that is what I am, does not. Can't. Trust could be death. His, or mine. And considering my dreams of him, likely mine.

I head to my sanctum and step inside, as the others arent about I head directly into the casting room and close the door. I watch as the entities bounce around, before settling on the floor and closing my eyes to take a few moments to gather my thoughts, I breath in. One. I breath out. Two. And repeat until my heart is calm, and all fear or doubt has slipped away.

When I open my eyes I pull a marker from my pocket and draw the all seeing eye on the palm of my hand, then place my hands out, one over the other so that the eye faces out and I start to chant. As usual, when I cast I see the threads of fate weaving from my hands like spanners, roping and pulling a story together that I can not see, but I certanly can make.

I can make a knot here, or there.

In this case, Christopher had made me a promise and I will know if he breaks it. Breaks it by mouth or mind. But I will know, and then I will know if the dreams are a promise of the future or a fear.